


We Don't Do So Bad

by orphan_account



Series: Lost and Found: Single Parent AU [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluffy Domestic Nonsense, Gen, Single Parent AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After six months of dating, things are going pretty well for Fitz and Jemma. They're madly in love and adore each other's children. </p><p>Skye's a little nervous, though, because she has a question she wants to ask Fitz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Do So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> A fluffy little one shot from my single parent verse. If you haven't read the other one-shots from this series, no worries! All you need to know is that Skye is Jemma's adopted daughter and Donnie is Fitz's son with a woman who left them. 
> 
> Donnie and Skye are about 4 and a half in this story. Hope you enjoy!

Normally, Skye darts to the car, jabbering a thousand miles a minute. Today, she trails slowly behind her mother, nervously wringing her hands. Jemma decides to give her a few minutes to come out with it on her own before she starts badgering her for information. She helps Skye buckle in to her little car seat and slides into the driver’s seat.

 

It only takes a little bit for Skye to start talking, just as Jemma expected. She smiles a big smugly to herself, careful to turn her face away from the rear view mirror.

 

“Hey Mama, can I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course, Skye. What is it?”

 

“Fitz is Donnie’s daddy,” Skye says slowly. “Right?”

 

Jemma feels a small pit of dread burning in her stomach. Ordinarily, any mention of her boyfriend of six months has the opposite effect.

 

“Yes, he is,” Jemma answers patiently. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Well, it’s just…”

 

She trails off, legs nervously kicking at the backseat of the car. They pull up to a redlight and Jemma turns around to look at her daughter.

 

“Whatever it is, sweetheart, you can ask me. I promise,” Jemma smiles. She hopes she sounds more convincing than she feels.

 

“School is doing a um…a thing. For daddys,” Skye blurts out, words practically running together with the speed of her speech. “Would it be okay if…do you think Fitz would want to…he could come with me?”

 

Jemma’s jaw drops open and she’s startled by an incessant honking behind her. The light had turned green and she’d failed to notice. She turns her attention back to the road, and her lack of response has obviously made her very scared daughter even more anxious.

 

“Nevermind. It’s stupid anyway. I don’t need a daddy.”

 

Skye crosses her little arms defensively over her chest and it breaks Jemma’s heart. Even after over a year of living with her, Skye still shows a lot of signs defensiveness in an effort to protect her own fragile emotional well-being.

 

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Jemma says hurriedly, voice soothing. “And remember, Skye, we don’t use that word.”

 

“Which word? Stupid?”

 

Jemma nods. “There’s no such thing as stupid.”

 

Skye hums and recites Jemma’s usual platitude. “Just because someone doesn’t know something doesn’t mean they’re stupid.”

 

Jemma beams. “Exactly, love. I think Fitz would be very pleased if you asked him to come to your school with you.”

 

 _And if he’s anything less than that, then Mama won’t do that thing he likes so much anymore,_ she thinks to herself. She of course doesn’t say this, and instead continues in a more innocent vein.

 

“If he can’t for some reason, your Uncle Hunter would definitely come,” Jemma tells her as she pulls into their driveway.

 

Skye crinkles her nose as Jemma pulls her from the carseat. “I dunno, Mama. Uncle Hunter might embarrass me.”

 

Jemma snorts, placing her on the ground. “You’re probably not wrong.”

 

“He messed up the wheels on the bus song,” Skye reminds her. “Remember, Mama?”

 

Jemma smirks, thinking back to when Hunter and Bobbi had accompanied her to Skye’s preschool open house. “I do remember.”

 

Skye follows her usual routine of putting her little backpack on the hook near the door and undoing the Velcro on her little sneakers. She sits on the ground to yank them off and then skips toward the kitchen, climbing onto the dining room chairs with an expectant smile.

 

“Ants on a log?” Jemma asks her daughter. Skye squeals in delight and nods.

 

“Yes please!”

 

Jemma grins, rustling through the fridge to pull out the celery. Once she’s prepared the little peanut butter snack for Skye, she places it in front of her and pulls out her phone.

 

_[Jemma]: Skye has something to ask you. Before she does, I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it. I don’t want her feelings to get hurt._

She places her phone facedown on the table. “How was school today, munchkin?”

 

“It was really good!” Skye exclaims, voice thick with peanut butter. She licks her lips like a little puppy and continues. “At first the boys wouldn’t let me do freeze tag but then I said that boys and girls have equal tea and they let me.”

 

“Ah yes, women’s equal tea,” Jemma hums. She does her best to correct Skye’s speech, but sometimes it’s just too cute. Besides, she looks so proud of herself for remembering and Jemma would hate to discourage her.

 

Jemma’s phone buzzes loudly on the table and she flips it over immediately to read Fitz’s response.

 

_[Fitz]: Sure, what’s up? Unless she asks me to break up with you, I’m pretty sure I’ll say yes._

With a small smile and a roll of her eyes, she types back a reply.

 

_[Jemma]: Her school is having some sort of event for fathers. She wanted to know if she could invite you to go with her._

She sends it as quickly as she can, heart speeding up a bit. They’ve only been together for six months, and while he’s also a single parent, she understands that not everyone can adjust to the pressures of being involved in a child’s life in that way. Even though he’s already a dad, he doesn’t necessarily want to be _Skye’s_ dad.

 

In the minutes following her text, she listens to Skye ramble about her day at school and interjects at appropriate places with nods and encouraging words, but her mind remains on what he might be thinking. She’s madly in love with him, but she loves Skye more. If he doesn’t want to be that involved with her daughter, what is she supposed to do?

 

She knows the answer, and she knows what her choice would be. In any situation, she’ll choose her daughter, no matter what. Not for the first time, Jemma is momentarily overwhelmed by the consequences of parenthood.

 

Her phone buzzes again, breaking her from her musings.

 

_[Fitz]: Of course, I’d love to go. As long as you’re okay with it._

Her brow furrows and she tilts her head as she stares at the screen, trying to deduce what he could possibly mean by that.

 

_[Jemma]: Why wouldn’t I want you to?_

Skye asks if she can watch the new episode of Biology Bobbi and Jemma sets it up on the DVR for her. She hops happily to the couch and curls up with Phil to watch it. Watching her fondly, Jemma takes a quick photo and sends it to Bobbi.

 

_[Fitz]: I don’t want to overstep my bounds. She’s your daughter and I know it’s a big deal to let someone in her life, so I wanted to make sure._

Her heart softens and she chides herself for ever thinking that Fitz would be so callous as to say no to her baby girl. He loves Skye, and has proven that time again. His toenails are currently messily painted orange and pink. For the last few months, he’s spent one afternoon a week with just Skye and Jemma spends the afternoon with just Donnie.

 

_[Skye]: You two adore each other, of course I’m okay with it. It’s sweet of you to check, though. Love you xx_

_[Fitz]: Love you too. Don’t forget to turn the crock-pot off._

She curses quietly under her breath, glancing quickly at Skye to make sure she didn’t hear her. Skye’s big brown eyes blink up at her with a playful little glint in them.

 

“Hey Mama, what does ‘fuck’ mean?”

 

“That’s a bad word, Skye,” Jemma explains. “And I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

“Sometimes I hear you say it when you and Fitz have sleepovers,” Skye continues. “So if it’s so bad why do you say it so much?”

 

Jemma is almost certain that her face must be absolutely purple from the amount of blood that has rushed to it.

 

“It’s—it’s a grown-up bad word and I’m not always very good about not saying bad words.”

 

“Every time you say a bad word you should give me ice cream,” Skye suggests. “Then you wouldn’t say them so much.”

 

“Maybe we’ll try that,” Jemma manages to get out through her embarrassment. She turns on her heel to rush into the kitchen, turning the crockpot off. Fitz had turned it on before leaving for work and she’d promised to switch it off so that the food wouldn’t burn—alas, she’d nearly forgotten.

 

_[Fitz]: …you totally forgot, didn’t you? One of these days you’re gonna burn that house down and have no choice but to move in with me._

This does nothing to stop her furious blushing, and she presses her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them.

 

_[Jemma]: Who says I wouldn’t just move in with Hunter and Bobbi? You’re a bit of a slob._

_[Fitz]: You should see my office. Pristine work space. Donnie and I will be there in 30._

She smiles, sends him back a quick confirmation, and joins Skye on the couch. It’s still a little strange to watch her best friend on television, but Bobbi is an engaging personality. Her show isn’t completely insufferable for adults, and even though the science of it is so basic that Jemma could do it asleep with her hands tied behind her back, Bobbi still makes it fun. She much prefers it to Dora the Explorer.

 

 _Fuck Dora the Explorer,_ she thinks to herself a bit bitterly. That damn theme song gets stuck in her head for days on end.

 

Before she knows it, Fitz’s key is turning in the door and he and Donnie make their appearance. Donnie immediately runs for Skye on the couch, clambering up beside her as Fitz sets their bags down near the door.

 

“What are you watching?” Donnie asks Skye.

 

“Bobbi,” Skye explains. “Sh, it’s new.”

 

Donnie nods and focuses in on the screen intently. Jemma smiles fondly at both of them as Fitz approaches her. He wraps his arms a round her waist and kisses her cheek.

 

“How was your day?” he asks.

 

“It was good,” Jemma tells him, migrating back toward the kitchen. “I left the lab a bit early to surprise Skye at school, usually Bobbi picks her up on Fridays.”

 

“That’s nice, I’m sure she loved that,” Fitz says, moving easily around the kitchen. Jemma bites her lip, watching his level of comfort in her home. He freezes, noticing her stare. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Jemma breathes. She clears her throat. “I mean, nothing. It’s nothing.”

 

He eyes her wearily but continues pulling down plates anyway. He hands her the little plastic plates for the kids and carries the ceramic ones for them to the table. “Alright, weirdo. Want to watch a non-animated, maybe even PG-13 movie when the kids go down?”

 

Jemma nods. “I bought some wine as well.”

 

Fitz smiles, that little sideways one that she loves so much. “Wild Friday night for us, hm?”

 

Jemma giggles, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. “Skye asked me why I say ‘fuck’ when we have sleepovers.”

 

His jaw drops, redness climbing up his neck immediately. “No. No she did not.”

 

“She really did,” Jemma whispers. “I was so mortified.”

 

Fitz puts his hands on his face, groaning. “That’s it. I’ve got to sound proof your bedroom.”

 

Jemma rolls her eyes. “But then we won’t hear the children, Fitz.”

 

He huffs. “You’re right. Guess we have to be celibate from now on.”   


Jemma laughs, slapping his chest. “Ugh, Fitz!”

 

“Seriously,” Fitz continues. “How am I supposed to look my little girl in the eye now? She _knows.”_

“She’s just a baby,” Jemma points out, deciding not to acknowledge his use of the term ‘my little girl’, despite the fact that it elevates her pulse. “She doesn’t know anything.”

 

“She’s _your baby._ She knows more than you think,” he warns. She rolls her eyes again. “Your face will get stuck that way.”

 

“Will not!” she exclaims.

 

“Yes it will,” he smirks. “That’s what we tell the kids, innit? I like to think we’re not liars.”

 

“You are insufferable this evening,” she smiles. He tugs her against him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“Is that so?” he murmurs, dropping his lips to hers in a languid kiss. When he pulls away, she nods.

 

“It is,” she whispers. “Absolutely insufferable.”

 

“Guess I have to make it up to you.”

 

Her hands move to his curls as he kisses her deeply, pressing her up against the counter. Her hand slips against the plastic plates, sending them careening for the tile floor. The loud noise separates them and they spring apart just in time, as the pattering of little feet soon signals Donnie and Skye’s arrival.

 

“Mama, you’re so clumsy,” Skye sighs. Jemma purses her lips to keep from laughing as Fitz winks at her, hoisting his son up onto his hip.

 

“How was Bobbi, Don?”

 

“She was really good,” Donnie says happily. “She’s the prettiest.”

 

Skye huffs, crossing her arms. “Auntie Bobbi is the _smartest_ not the _prettiest._ If you want to _aplease_ a woman you compliment her brains. _”_

Donnie screws up his face. “But brains are icky. And what’s aplease mean?”

 

“Mama, what does aplease mean?” Skye whispers loudly. Jemma and Fitz exchange a thoroughly amused glance.

 

“It’s appease, darling. And it means to make someone happy.”

 

“It’s _appease,_ Donnie, and it means to make someone happy,” Skye recites.

 

Donnie doesn’t seem to care what the word means, wriggling out of his dad’s grasp so that he can climb up onto the table. “Whatever. Brains are still icky.”

 

“Brains are very icky,” Fitz agrees. “And so are all inside parts. Those belong in your body, and not next to someone’s lunch.”

 

He gives her a pointed look and she narrows her eyes at him. “Sometimes, in the name of science, inside parts need to be examined.”

 

“Some scientists are bloody disgusting.”

 

“Why are they bloody?” Skye pipes up.

 

Fitz ruffles her hair fondly. “You’re a regular Curious George today.”

 

Skye giggles. “I’m not a monkey!”

 

“Y’know,” Fitz says, crinkling his face in thought. “I think you are. Had us fooled this whole time.”

 

While Fitz teases the children and entertains them, Jemma serves up their dinner and drops the plates in front of the kids. They both immediately tuck in, and Jemma takes her seat beside her boyfriend feeling very pleased.

 

Fitz washes up while she changes the kids into their pajamas, listening to them bicker about what cartoon they should watch before they go to bed. Eventually they settle on The Incredibles, and Jemma isn’t surprised. Skye is going through a major superhero phase, and Donnie agrees with most anything that Skye wants.

 

When they’re all set, the kids dart back down the hallway toward the living room, eager to watch their movie. Fitz appears in the entry to the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he dries his hands on a dishtowel. Skye freezes just as she’s about to run past him, Donnie continuing on obliviously.

 

She shifts on her little feet, tugging at her Captain America pajama top that Phil Coulson had bought her for her birthday. “Um, excuse me, Fitz?”

 

He smiles, kneeling down in front of her. “What’s up, Skye?”

 

“Um—I was gonna ask—could you maybe—would you—“

 

She takes in a sharp, nervous little breath and Jemma watches from down the hall. This is a sure sign of one of Skye’s little anxiety attacks. They’re few and far between these days, but they do still occur, mostly when she’s nervous about an adult’s approval or very over-stimulated.

 

Fitz handles it in stride, running his hand soothingly on her hair. “What do you wanna ask, sweetheart? Y’can ask me anything, y’know that.”

 

Skye nods, her eyes filling with tears. Jemma represses the urge to scoop her up and hold her tightly until she feels better, but she’s been told time and time again that she can’t protect her from everything. Besides, Fitz has it perfectly under control.

 

“There’s a—a thing at my school,” Skye gasps out, little voice full of tears. Fitz watches her a bit worriedly, fingers still brushing her soft hair from her face.

 

“Okay. What kind of thing is it?”

 

Jemma is suddenly very glad that she gave him early warning.

 

“It’s for—for daddies. And I don’t—I don’t have one so I wanted to know if you would come,” Skye blurts out before promptly bursting into tears. She turns and runs down the hall for Jemma, arms outstretched for her mom. Jemma catches her, holding her tight.

 

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Jemma asks. Fitz rises from his place on the floor down the hall and approaches slowly, looking very worried.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Fitz asks worriedly, voice hardly above a whisper. Jemma shakes her head subtly.

 

“She has a little bit of anxiety,” Jemma explains, equally quiet. “She gets a bit scared of rejection, I think.”

 

Fitz’s face crumbles for a minute and then he runs a large hand over Skye’s back. “Hey, honey. You didn’t let me answer you.”

 

She raises her head off of Jemma’s shoulder wearily, red-faced and bleary eyed.

 

“I’d love to come with you,” Fitz smiles. “And I’m very happy you asked me.”

 

Skye hiccups, messily wiping at her teary cheeks before reaching out for him. Fitz lifts her easily out of Jemma’s arms. He drops a kiss to Skye’s head and she hugs him tightly around the neck.

 

“You know you’re my favorite girl,” he tells her quietly. Skye nods.

 

“Even more than Mama.”

 

“Just a little bit,” he whispers. “Don’t tell her.”

 

Jemma watches Fitz carry her daughter back to the living room, where he settles her in as he presses play on the DVD. She takes a seat beside Donnie and he immediately climbs onto her lap. His hand tangles up in the soft material of her t-shirt, as it always does, and she kisses his cheek, tugging him close. Fitz grins at her, pecking her quickly on the mouth.

 

“We don’t do so bad,” he mumbles softly to avoid Skye’s wrath. She gets fired up when people talk during movies or TV time.

 

“We really don’t,” Jemma smiles back.

 

By the time the kids go to bed, they’re both too tired to even think about opening the wine (but they’re not too tired for Fitz to make Jemma say some very adult bad words).


End file.
